


All Quiet in the Potter House

by elimalfoy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adopted Children, Family, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-16 12:07:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18093998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elimalfoy/pseuds/elimalfoy
Summary: “Why did we have so many kids?” he asked a bit desperately.“A whole Quidditch team, remember?” Harry murmured, coming up behind him at the kitchen counter. He relished in the few moments of solitude. Any second one of their needy brats would come disturb them.“And then some? Did you mean a Quidditch stadium as well?”Harry shrugged as if it couldn’t have been helped. Maybe it couldn’t have.





	All Quiet in the Potter House

            “I feel like—I feel like—” he stopped, so irritated he couldn’t even remember what he was trying to say. Harry just smiled that infuriating smile that meant he looked adorable even though he was pissed, which wasn’t helping his temper at all.

            “Like a chicken with its head cut off?” Harry offered unhelpfully.

            “Don’t be vulgar,” he mumbled, already turning back to the handful of things he needed to accomplish before dinner.

            “Hey, I could try to get off from work earlier—”

            “And then what?” he snapped harshly. “You come home in time to change a few nappies and stumble through a maths assignment?”

            A look of guilt flashed across Harry’s face, and he instantly regretted saying anything at all.

            “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. You always help out as much as you can, and goodness knows they like you more than me anyway. It’s only now with all the sports and recitals and projects and—why do they all have to be in separate buildings this year? I _know_ James isn’t sick nearly as many times as I have to pick him up from the nurse’s office. I thought it would be a relief when Cassiopeia finally started walking, but _no_ it just means I have to run after a hyperactive toddler all day!”

            Harry laughed softly, and this time it didn’t bother him. It was a happy sound, that meant that no matter how chaotic their life was, it was worth it. And it _was_ , it just wasn’t easy some days.

            “Why did we have so many kids?” he asked a bit desperately.

            “A whole Quidditch team, remember?” Harry murmured, coming up behind him at the kitchen counter. He relished in the few moments of solitude. Any second one of their needy brats would come disturb them.

            “And then some? Did you mean a Quidditch stadium as well?”

            Harry shrugged as if it couldn’t have been helped. Maybe it couldn’t have. Their strange conglomerate of children had started off oddly, and it had never stopped. They had the assets, the time, and certainly the “love,” whatever that was supposed to mean. Already six kids in, expecting a seventh, and in the process of finalizing the paperwork to adopt another. They were hopeless.

            “What’s on this week? Can I help with anything?”

            “ _Can I help with anything?_ ” Draco mimicked silently, although Harry didn’t miss it. “Well, now that you mention it, yes. Leo, our wonderful first born, _forgot_ to mention that his end of term science project was due on Wednesday. Apparently, he’s building a volcano? Without magic? I’ll need you to fill in with that, unless you want a class of fourth graders being spewed with molten lava.

            “Teddy wrote to say that he’d ruined his _fifth_ set of robes—it’s only November, mind you—and could we please order him some indestructible ones. I have to go see McGonagall about the ruckus he’s been causing. He’s a _Hufflepuff_ for Merlin’s sake!

            “Arabella has her violin recital on Friday. _We cannot miss it_. Do you hear me? Write it on your calendar, notify your secretary, set a billion reminders on your Muggle phone. You know how long she holds grudges. Do you remember when we forgot about the tea party she hosted with her dolls? She didn’t speak to us for a month!  
            “Iris’ class is having one of those silly parent association meetings, and you know how much I loathe them. Don’t suppose you could clear Thursday afternoon?”

            He gulped a quick breath, realizing he’d barely done so during his monologue. Harry stared at him with that same endearing look, then nodded slowly.

            “Our irresponsible son, Leo, and I will build his volcano Monday and Tuesday night. I will see about some more durable robes in Diagon on Wednesday. I’ll suffer through a tedious afternoon listening to paranoid parents describe the horrors of gluten in the cafeteria on Thursday. I’ll buy the biggest bouquet of flowers for Arabella’s recital on Friday. And we’ll both floo to Hogwarts on Saturday to apologize for Teddy’s reckless behaviour. I’ll try to convince Hermione and Ron to cover the other brats. Anything else?”

            When had Harry become so organized? Or maybe he’d just lost his mind in the process. He glanced at the bulletin board which he’d set up as a way of keeping everything straight, although recently it had started to look like the mad ravings of a psychopath.

            “ _Shit_ ,” he groaned. “We have to meet with the adoption consultant Tuesday. Then if all goes well, I’m actually going to have to get around to decorating the spare bedroom. Do you think it would be prejudiced to do it in Slytherin greens? It would be nice for one of them to end up there.”

            Slowly, Harry’s collected façade was crumbling and was being replaced by his own state of hysteria. “Not that I haven’t been keeping track, but when is Luna due again?”

            Ah, yes. Luna, their lovely surrogate. She’d given them the gifts that were Leo and Cassiopeia. Perhaps it was her Nargle obsessed mind that had produced their more…difficult children. It was wishful thinking, he knew, and that their frenzied personalities were only a result of Harry and his genetics. Mostly Harry’s though. Until he took up the position of mother of the year, he had been a sane, rational human being.

            “Not that I haven’t been keeping track either, but maybe we should drop her a line soon.”

            Harry laughed loudly and shook his head incredulously. He was finally seeing things the way Draco did.

            “Why did we have so many kids?” Harry repeated.

            “Because we wanted a whole Quidditch team and then some,” he decided affectionately. Not that he would ever let any of them set foot on a broomstick. It was far too dangerous, and they were all far too vulnerable. Bludgers were basically asking for head damage, and not that he didn’t adore every last one of them, but a few of them couldn’t really afford to lose any more functioning brain cells.

            “Speaking of which, remember when I was called to do emergency relief work in that east African wizarding village?”

            “We’re going to need a bigger house,” Draco whispered, although he was fairly certain he could add a few more expansion charms without disrupting the foundation too much.

            “Maybe a nanny?” Harry broached carefully, not that the sensitivity helped at all. Draco still gasped dramatically and managed to look highly offended.

            “These are _my_ children, Harry James Potter, and I would rather work myself slowly to the point of insanity before I allowed some cold-blooded stranger near them. Not after knowing the pain of being left with house elves for one’s _entire_ childhood—”

            Harry put his hands up in surrender, and it seemed that they’d finally found a quiet middle ground. Maybe they even had a few moments of solitude left, and they could—

            A loud crash from the second story firmly put an end to that plan. The ensuing screams sent them both running towards the staircase. They weren’t afraid of some accident. The Potter’s were too resilient for their own good. No, they were afraid of the impending sibling rivalry, because they were about as reasonable and compassionate as they were quiet.

            And if there was one word that had absolutely no place in their household, it was “quiet.”


End file.
